


Held back

by TheIceQueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Begging Sam Winchester, Broken Bones, Chains, Crying, Crying Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester to the Rescue, Dreams and Nightmares, Dungeon, Fever, Fever Dreams, Gen, Head Injury, Headaches & Migraines, Healing, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Pain, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Protective Siblings, Scared Sam Winchester, Trapped, Unconsciousness, Whumptober 2019, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-23 16:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: Sam is taken captive and doesn't know why or how. The only thing he knows is that he has to get out fast.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:  
Chapter 1: Whumptober 2019 #no.9 – Shackled  
Chapter 2: Whumptober 2019 #no.10 – Unconscious  
Chapter 3: Whumptober 2019 #altno.10 – Nightmare  
Chapter 4: Whumptober 2019 #no.17 – Stay with me

The first he knew was his scull tightening around his brain. The next was the cold. But neither of these things had woken him up. Sam moved his palms over the hard stone surface under him and tried to push himself up, but the pounding pulse in his head knocked him back down, and breathless he curled up on himself. The sound was there again; the sound he recognized as the one waking him up. Metal on stone. He forced down a shiver and held his breath as he opened his eyes. The dim light not making his eyes hurt was a poor comfort to what he saw.

The room was small, all made in dark gray stone. There was a hole near the ceiling as the only window, but no one could fit through there. The one door, had a square hole with three metal bars. The door was made of thick, but old, wood. Sam would might have been able to break it down if he wasn’t so damn dizzy, even lying down. How did he get here? He had no recollection of a case or attack. Worst of all; he didn’t know if Dean was in a cell just like this.

Sam took a deep breath and tried to push himself op again. He made it to all four, before he had to fight back a wave of sudden nausea. Heaving in air through his nose, Sam kept his eyes locked at his hands holding him up. He chose the nearest wall and slowly moved towards it. The metallic rattling stopped one leg from moving and Sam tumbled to the ground shoulder first.

Rubbing his shoulder, Sam rolled to his back. The stone cooled his wet shirt on his back and Sam let out a trembling exhale, noticing his breath turning to vapor in the cold. For a second he closed his eyes, gathering himself before he pushed himself up to sit and look at this legs. His left ankle was locked in a big metal cuff and shackled to the wall. Quickly and intuitively, Sam eye-measured the distance to the door. There was no way he was going to reach it, definitely not break it down. It wouldn’t matter anyway. He couldn’t walk out of here.

A sound from the other side of the door, had Sam forget his headache and the cold. It was far away, but there was no doubt that it was Dean shouting.

“De…” Sam coughed, surprised that his voice was that raw. “Dean!”

“_Sam!_”

Sam sat up on his knees, silently fighting the added dizziness. “Dean, I’m here!”

“_Sa--!_” Dean’s voice cut over in coughs.

Frozen in place, Sam listened. There was someone with Dean. Someone with a deep and unsettling calm voice. With the first scream echoing in the hall, Sam threw himself towards the door, but nothing gave and the metal dug into his ankle as he tumbled to the hard floor.

“Dean!”

There was no answer except the continuing screaming. Sam curled in on himself to reach the metal around his ankle. It was stuck. He couldn’t break the lock without a tool, and all he had was his jeans and sweatshirt. They’d even taking his shoes. Frantically, he grabbed the chain and pulled himself to the wall. The hook was stuck firmly in the wall. It’s would take years to get it shaken loose. From how Dean was screaming and calling out for him in half spoken words, Sam figured he didn’t have more than half an hour.

Only one thing in the chain of him being stuck would break in that timeframe. Determined to make Dean’s torture stop and never hear that screaming again, Sam rolled his shirt up from the waist to the neckline and bit on it hard. He ignored his shaking hands as he used them to place his foot crooked against the wall and aim his other heel in the right place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers are reunited but the task of getting out is harder than expected.

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice were low and hesitant. Sam almost never heard it that quiet.

“Sam, c’mon.”

His head moved and his bran tumbled around in his sore skull. He think he hummed but it could have been wishful thinking.

“Sammy… what the hell?” Somehow Dean’s voice was both stronger and more quiet. Sam felt his face held up by the only warm thing he’d felt in, he didn’t know how long. Another warm hand padded his cheek. It was almost too light a touch for it to be Dean, but Sam would know that leather jacket smell anywhere.

“C’mon. Work with me here.” Dean was started to sound desperate and Sam definitely hummed this time, because he felt it resonate in his skull.

“Okay, okay.” With the relief in Dean’s voice the hold on Sam’s head froze. “Now, open your eyes and look at me.”

Sam wanted nothing more than to follow order and reassure Dean that he could in fact hear him, but every time he was sure he was awake, his head got heavy and something covered the dark room in complete black. Dean called him back every time but it took a long time for him to make his eyes stay open.

“There you go, Sleepyhead.” Dean’s relieved smile and tired eyes was finally clear for Sam to see.

He lifted a trembling hand to take Dean’s hand from his face, but before he got there a burning pain rose from his leg. His hand grabbed on tight to Dean’s wrist and the other followed as he screamed out in pain and surprise.

“Alright, Sam. Hang on.” Dean pushed Sam up to sit against the wall and instinctively he pulled his legs close only to make the white glowing pain shoot up through his entire body. Sam only knew pain and the raw feeling of air pressing through his throat, but he didn’t hear his own screams.

“Sa… Hey… Sa-mmy…!” The words breaking though was making his head hurt worse but he clung to everyone of them.

“Sam!”

Sam’s eyes sprung up as the loud call of his name came through clearly. Dean was right in front of him, pressing his shoulders back on the wall.

“Don’t move! Okay?”

Heaving for air, Sam kept his eyes locked on Dean as he nodded. Slowly, Dean let go of Sam’s shoulders, looking just as surprised as Sam was that he kept sitting against the wall.

“How hard did you fight this thing?” Dean shook his head as he looked at Sam’s leg. Sam let his eyes follow and saw the shackle digging into the flesh of his swollen ankle. His stomach churned and he heaved in air, just the thought of moving that made him queasy, and he tried very hard to forget that he already had.

“Dean…” Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder winded from both the movement and the raspy first word. “How…? What?”

He looked up and down his brother’s body. He didn’t seemed hurt or inured in any way. He was breathing fine; a bit fast maybe, but that was to be expected. Not anything like Sam’s fight against the pain, making his lungs curl up.

“I… heard you.”

“So you _did_ do this to yourself?” Dean took Sam’s hand from his shoulder and moved to kneel next to Sam’s foot.

“But… you?”

“I’m fine. I shot that sick sound system down.” He pulled out his picklock and smiled jokingly. “Good thing I always carry this one.” It didn’t matter though; Sam knew that look on Dean. It was only to hide that this was not going to be easy.

“You…” Sam concentrated on controlling his breathing. “You’re not hurt?”

Dean reached up and took Sam’s chin. “No, little brother. The blood on me is from the sickos who took you.”

“Who…?” Sam still didn’t remember anything from the day leading up to him waking up it this dark hole. “How… how lo…?”

“Sam...” Dean broke off a fight for words that might have pulled Sam into unconsciousness again. “You’ve been here almost a full day. Now, let me get this off you so you can get somewhere warm.”

The shake in the chain when Dean touched the lock stabbed knifes into Sam’s entire leg and his head knocked back into the wall.

“Sorry, Sam. I’ll be quick.”

“No…” Sam heaved in air and coughed it back out when Dean touched the metal again. “No… Dean!” His foot was burning, even his toes felt like they might explode. “Don’t… Dean!” Sam felt the room move around him and only when Dean pushed him back and his back hit the floor did he realize that he was the one moving and putting up a frantic fight against being touched.

“Hang in there!” Dean hissed out the words through his fight with Sam and the lock.

Sam pulled grabbed his jeans on his thighs to pull himself up, but a new wave of pain sent him down on his back again.

“Breathe, Sammy. It’s a tricky one.”

“Dean…!” Sam couldn’t help but pull his leg away from Dean. He knew it made it worse, but his body wasn’t listening to reason. A metallic taste spread in his mouth and he turned his head and spat, it didn’t help. He coughed and tried again to get up, only to get the same result. “No, no. Stop!”

The dark ceiling turned pale green and streaks of bright purple moved hastily over it. “Dean… I. Imma…” He gasped to try and get the colors away, but every time either he or Dean moved his leg he would scream and a new color would add to the mix.

“I’m… Dean…” He heard his own voice get unclear fast.

The only thing that stood clear over the pain was Dean talking. “It’s alright. I’ll get you out.”

Sam shook his head and kicked Dean with his free leg, trying to move him away and stop hurting him. He coughed as he tried to talk through the added jolt of pain.

“Please just pass out. I’ve got you.”

Sam tried to kick again but his leg became too heavy to lift and before he could figure out why his head tilted to the side and all the colors retracted to leave only pitch black. He heard his own panicked breath; he didn’t want this. He wanted the pain gone but not like this. Then the pain diminished and left was only cold and Dean’s voice.

“We’re safe. I’ll get you home.”


	3. Chapter 3

Half carrying, half dragging a completely limp Sam out of that basement had not been easy, but every time he’d growled or whimpered in pain, Dean prayed silently that he wouldn’t wake up.

Sam never begged like that. He would scream and swear, but never fight to get away from the pain. Dean was sure that those were the moments when Sam looked most like him. What he’d just seen wasn’t like any of them.

He’d been out of it though. Judging from the blood on the back of Sam’s head, he’d been knocked out, and then later passed out from the headwound or from braking his ankle. Still Dean had feared that more was at stake and looking at Sam shaking in the back of the Impala, it seemed as his fear had been confirmed. Sam was definitely sporting a fever. Of course he would, after lying still in that room for what seemed like most of his stay.

Dean didn’t hesitate for a second before choosing direction and didn’t think twice as he hit the brakes.

* * *

The wind was knocked out of Sam’s lungs as he hit the ground. Desperately, he scrambled to his hands and knees while coughing and gasping for air he didn’t know if he had room for. It was cold and pitch black, but Sam didn’t need to see to know that the room was spinning and that he couldn’t stand, even if he had the strength. The only light in the room was a small line of yellow. It could be a door opened a little. Sam held his breath to listen. There were low voices but he couldn’t separate them before he heaved in air and the movement pulled him flat to the floor.

“D..Dean…?” Sam rasped out as he fought to get up on his knees again.

With his arms trembling under his weight he moved slowly towards the door. He hissed and gasped from the unforeseen change in breath as the skin on his knees pressed against the uneven surface and the stone cut into him. Trying to fight the pleasurable thought of sleep, Sam focused on the only warmth he knew; the sticky wounds on his knees, and not on the pain from the same place. Gasping and gagging he looked up to reach for the door, but it was still too far away.

“Dean!” Sam fisted his hands against the floor and forced the words out. “Dean! I’m in here!”

Sam wasn’t sure why, but he knew Dean was okay. He knew that Dean was right out there, but why wasn’t he answering him? Why wasn’t he coming in to help? Where the hell was he anyway?

“D-Dea…” Sam’s left arm caved in and he curled up with his forehead pressed against the cold stone. “D…” He tried again, but it was hardly a whisper and he wasn’t sure he would get air for another try. A pounding headache took over his whole world and he tilted to the side, wrapping his head in his arms and pressing his forehead to his knees. Sam didn’t know where to go if he could move, even the light from the door didn’t give him a sense of direction anymore.

* * *

“Hey, hey, hey.” Dean dropped the extra pillows halfway through the door and rushed to Sam’s side and took his face in his hands.

“Sam…?”

He studied Sam’s face carefully. Dean hardly managed to steady Sam’s head from turning from side to side. Sam was gasping and his arms reached for Dean, not making the target. Dean took Sam’s one hand and pressed it to the sweat-drenched shirt on Sam’s heaving chest, grabbing on tighter to Sam’s chin with the other hand.

“Sam. Wake up!”

“De-Dean…?” Sam pushed out the word between the panting for air.

“Yeah, Sammy.” He shook their hands a little on Sam’s chest. “You’re in the hospital.”

Sam’s hand squeezed harder on Dean’s fingers and his forehead frowned as if he was sizing Dean up. Carefully, Dean loosened the grip on Sam’s chin and was relieved to see that his head kept still in his direction.

“Sammy. Wake up.”

It felt like that Dean was looking at Sam’s closed eyes and pained face forever. When his eyes finally fluttered to a small crack Dean was right there to be the first he saw.

“Hey there.” Dean spoke lower but did his best not to sound worried. He wasn’t really. Sam was awake. His leg was going to be fine, eventually, and the nightmares that had been going on for over a day, was surely because of the fever and not the head-wound.

Sam took a long deep breath and relaxed under Dean’s hold. “Hi.”

Dean slowly pulled the red string next to Sam’s head, but didn’t take his eyes of Sam’s, afraid he would lose him to unconsciousness for another day or longer.

“How are you feeling?” Dean watched Sam’s eyes slowly become more focused and awake.

“My…” Sam blinked slowly and took a second to steady his breath. “My head…”

Dean nodded and was about to speak when the nurse who had been there all night came in.

“Hi Sam.” The small woman clearly confused Sam for a second but he quickly calmed before she was by his side. “Good to finally see you awake.”

She looked quickly at the screen next to the bed and nodded to herself, before she turned back to him. “You’ve been out for quite a while, but your fever is going down. Can you tell us how you feel?”

Sam frowned and slowly shook his head in movements too small to see if you weren’t looking for it.

“His head hurts.” Dean stood up straight and felt Sam’s hand hold on tighter. He folded his other hand around their grip, telling Sam that he wasn’t going anywhere.

She smiled at Dean and then put her palm on Sam’s other hand. “That was to be expected. Your scan was clear, but you must have hit it hard to get a wound like that. I’ll give you a bit more for the pain. How is your leg?”

Second for second, Dean could see Sam’s face change as he rediscovered the feeling in his ankle. His breathing sped up and his eyes locked on Dean. That look Sam gave when they both knew what was wrong without having to say it.

“Just give him the drugs.” Dean pressed Sam’s hand on his chest again as he leaned in and brushed the damp hair out of his forehead. Only seconds after, Sam breathed easier.

“I’ll let you rest, and then the doctor will be in to talk to you about when they can operate.” She stepped back but paused till Dean looked up at her. “Call us if he needs more for the pain.”

Dean nodded and sat down on the chair next to Sam. “So…?” He looked at Sam’s ankle and the screen before locking eyes with a clearly confused Sam again. “How do you feel?”

“I need…” Sam breathed slow and Dean wondered if he was fighting of unconsciousness. “I need surgery?”

“Yeah. You hit the trifecta this time.” Dean smiled and put his elbows on the mattress and folded his hands. “You broke your ankle… and foot, trying to get out of that shackle. They had to wait with fixing it, till your fever was down. And we didn’t know if your unconsciousness was from the knock on the head or from the fever. So, I’m asking again; how do you feel?”

Sam stared at Dean for a long moment before he blinked and build a small smile. “Tired, thirsty and cold.”

With a soundless chuckle Dean got up and got the pillows from the floor. “Yeah, let’s get you seated so you can get some water. IV-fluids don’t do much to dry-mouth.”

He helped Sam up slowly, and made sure everything was still attached. The medicine in the IV, had to take care of what he couldn’t do with cold water.


	4. Chapter 4

The small motel room wasn’t the ideal place to recover from surgery, concussion and a fever Sam couldn’t seem to get rid of for more than a few days at a time, but it was the most affordable place fairly close to the hospital. Dean had insisted that Sam followed the doctor’s order and came in for checkup every week until two weeks after he didn’t need that boot anymore.

If everything was okay, Sam would get the boot of the next day and Dean had decided to celebrate by driving further and get some food that better than the burger place around the corner which they had both come to despise. The smell of spicy barbecue had Dean’s stomach rumbling when he walked though the door, but it was all forgotten when he saw Sam on the floor.

“Sam!”

Sam hummed and did his best to push himself up to sit. Dean dropped the paper bags on the table and rushed to steady his brother where he was.

“What the hell happened?”

Sam rubbed his forehead and breathed in deeply. “I just got dizzy. I’m good.”

“The hell you are.” Dean cupped Sam’s chin, moving his face up so he could see him. “You’re burning up.”

With a sigh, Sam blinked slowly and brushed the damp hair from his forehead. “It’s just fever. I’ll be fine after I sleep.” He tried to get up again, and this time Dean helped him up on unsteady legs and down to the nearest bed.

“You were fine this morning. _This _is not fine. You need to see a doctor.”

“I don’t.”

Sam turned his head away and closed his eyes, but Dean quickly grabbed his chin and made him look at him. “No, stay awake. I’ll bring the car around.”

It seemed like Sam either hadn’t heard him, or he was too tired to argue. Ether way it only added to Dean’s fear that his fever was rising too fast. He didn’t need to check his temperature to know that a fever on an off for seven weeks were not normal and this was the final straw. If it was possible they could check it on the way.

Happy that he had been able to parc close, Dean entered the room only a few minutes after leaving. Sam was sitting on the bed and pushed himself up when Dean came in. He must have gotten the message anyway, but it didn’t sit well with dean that he’d agreed that easily.

Dean grabbed the bag on the table and watched Sam take a slow step and lose balance completely. He dropped everything and just barely caught Sam under his arms as he collided with Dean’s chest. With a strong pushed he plummeted back on the bed, completely limp.

“Hey!” Dean grabbed Sam’s chin again and padded his cheek. “Hey, stay with me.”

Sam didn’t move and didn’t make a sound. There was no way Dean was getting him in the car like this. As he picked up his phone and called the contact number for the doctor, Dean scrambled though the bag for their med kit and the thermometer.

The doctor didn’t normally make house calls but after explaining the fever over the last weeks, which Sam hadn’t mentioned at the check-ups, and the temperature of 106 that had appeared in a few hours, she was out of the door quickly.

“Sam?!” Dean had resulted to shaking his brother, after the ice hadn’t helped. “Sammy, c’mon dammit!”

It felt like an eternity before Dean heard sirens. He hadn’t expected her to come in an ambulance, but of course it made sense. The doctor and a young male paramedic rushed into the room and Dean fought all instincts as he stepped back.

“He’s fine, right?” Dean hated to be nervous over a fever. They had dealt with so much worse than this but to see Sam cave under this so long after the injury and the hospital stay. “Tell me how he is!”

The doctor dropped the thermometer and picked up a stethoscope, then she called for the man to set up and IV.

“His fever is still rising.” She listened to his heart and nodded to herself. “He’s holding his own though, but we need to get him to the hospital where we can monitor him.”

She looked at the medic who was connection the fluid to Sam’s hand. “Let’s give him the antibiotics now.”

The man nodded and handed the bag of saline to Dean as he ran to the ambulance.

“What the hell happened?” Dean stood still, expecting Sam to move any moment. “What’s wrong with him? It can’t be from the surgery, can it.”

She walked to the other end of the bed and opened the boot. There was no visible spots on the bandages and it wasn’t swollen or read. She closed it loosely.

“It’s probably from the cold and damp where he was when you found him. Not that I have any idea where that was.” She looked investigative at Dean but got interrupted by the bag of antibiotics which she proceeded to connect to Sam’s IV.

“It seems as he’s not treated it probably but only till the symptoms was gone.” She formed it as a question but Dean resulted in only nodding.

“Let’s get him in the ambulance.” She nodded at the man, and he rolled the gurney in.

All three of them lifted Sam up there and Dean followed him into the back of the ambulance. As they strapped the belts around him, Sam hummed. Dean all but lost all of his air.

He took Sam’s hand and leaned over him. “Sammy?”

“Dean?” His voice was deep and somehow felt far away.

“Yeah. It’s me.” He took Sam’s chin carefully and turned his head towards him as he sat down. “Listen to me this time; Stay with me, okay?”

Sam nodded and opened his eyes. Clearly confused he looked around as they started moving, but Dean turned his head back.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Sam smiled and took Dean’s hand from him chin. “Sure.” He frowned and looked down at the doctor. “I’m still getting the boot off tomorrow, right?”


End file.
